An hour of peace
by twilightjunkie1313
Summary: Wether it is an hour, or a fleeting second peace is hard to come by. Nobody knows this better than the flock, read and reveiw.
1. Peace

**A/N: James Patterson owns the flock, the voice the plot… I own this.**

**This is a oneshot, unless somebody reviews (hint) and tells me to add on.**

**Enjoy.**

_Let the acid rain cease,_

_Let the swords fall away,_

_Leave the weary, wounded, broken_

_Let them have peace for a day_

_For after the chaos_

_All will understand_

_The world was saved_

_By the angel's hand_

Six of them sat in a forrest. they didn't know where they were exsactly, or what time it was presicely. They hadn't spoken in a while. Today was a rare quiet day. No chaos, no violence. nothing unexpected, nothing to wreak their moment of peace.

The first was small, blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. Eyes that had seen more horrors than anyone ever should. Eyes that were wise beyond their few years. The girl was the youngest, but not the weakest. not by far. today thought, she was six, and sitting in the sun enjoying the afternoon. Today there was no war for her to fight.

Another was laying on the grass asleep. Her skin was carmel and shining. she too was at peace, no war to fight. Nothing to prove, there was this second to live, there was tomorrow as well, but most importantly there was today.

One was sitting in the grass, ivory skin and flaming hair. He felt the world, though he did not see it. Peace for him was this day, quiet and solitary, just him and those he loved. He felt the wind play across the silken grass, felt the sun warm his face. Peace was not having to run, or stumble blindly in a world full of destruction.

There is a boy, small like the girl. With startling blue eyes, eyes that will see everything. But the boy is still young, too young to understand it all. But he knows much, he knows that these few hours of peace will be temporary. he knows that good may not always beat evil, but he knows that good will try.

The last two are wonders in themselves...

she sits in the sun, he stands in the shade, leaning against a tree. They are the defenders, the guiders, the leaders. They are alternetly weak and strong. The weight of the world sits on their sholders. That burden is theirs alone... Made to complete each other they are opposites to one another. Cold logic angainst pure emotion, darkness on light. Meant to be the ultimate warriors they are made to fight, for hummanity, for history, for all that is good.

But today there is peace, and the sheilds are lain down.

today there are these six, and this green unstained ground.

today the past fades and tomorrow looks grey but

today there is peace love and light.

let tomorrow bring what may...


	2. war

**A/N: Patterson owns the characters. I own this. (sorry for the delay, finals have been this week.) In case I haven't said ( or nobody caught on) these are all going to be no pov oneshots. I need no pov in order to give a description of everybody in one straight shot. Thanx-twilightjunkie1313**

No Pov:

Today there was no peace, the rain and wind pounded the sky. Today there was war. But not the large multi-nationed wars that are so typical of this age.

Today the war was smaller, more violent and so much more important. Up in the middle of the malestorm were thirty eight, whether angels or demons it really didn't matter.

The smallest in the fight was a girl, blue eyes more vibrant than the sea. She was side by side with another, her brother. They were both bleeding, and briused. Both equally determined to win, ignorant of the odds against them. So they faught, hard and didn't ever stop. Kicking, punching and dodging blows as one. They were, for those moments, a single person. Working in such unison that one would swear they were a single soul in two bodies.

Maybe they were...

Slighly below them was another, a girl whose skin matched the earth after a light rain. She faught alone, as she had always done before. She too was blind to the odds, because they didn't matter. If they lost this battle there would be no others. The girl faught with all the emotion she had. Normally she was kind and compassionate, but now she was a mess of anger, pain, sandess and resentment. Her eyes were nearly black with rage. She took down the wolf like creatures one by one, putting everything she had into the fight.

There was a boy...

He was the protector. Looking at him one would never know what strength lied inside. But now all that changed. The protector became the destroyer, bodies of horrible things fell out of the sky around him. He grew weaker with each passing moment but the ferocity of his attack never did. Fresh scratches etched a story on his face. His eyes burned the most threatening and cold shade of onyx. Into this battle he carried memories of betrayals and cruelty. Like an arkangel he faught, pouring all of his strength into the battle.

There was another, one who felt the battle around him. He couldn't see what was going on, but he could feel it. The small whistles of wind as wolfish animals fell from the sky. The growl of predators hungry for blood. In it's own right not seeing was worse than seeing. With precise, even blows he braught his opponents down. He heard them drop to the ground far below. He wasn't the weakest of them, nor was he the strongest. But there was something about him, some sort of hidden force. It was what kept him going, even now, when all looked lost.

Then there was the girl. She was the one that carried the world on her sholders. She was surrounded by monsters and myths that shouldn't be. But this wasn't a nightmare, nor dream. This was as real as the sky around them and the ground far below. The world relied on her, and more importantly, the five around her. Designed the perfect fighter, and protector she was failable because she was still human. She was uncontrolable, willful and determined. At once powerful beyond imagine and weak past comprehension. But if ever there was one to save us it was her.

Another girl, exsactly like the her. Identical in appearance, the aftermath of perfection. She flew high above the fight, away from the fray. Just like always. She had been watching the six, learning about them. Making some choices, because she could. She was the clone, the twin. Her exsistance was as a fallback, a last ditch plan. She was created to be the perfect fighter, but she was failable because she had an equal. She watched the girl below fight experiments. The girl high above was nothing like the one below. she had been controled, force-fed information, subdued and trained to take orders. Now that was gone, and she was alone. Following the only thing she had, the original. The one thing she had always wanted to be.

This was the battle. These were the seven that mattered above all else. The seven that could, in a moment, doom or redeem us. Still if anyone could save us it is them.


	3. school

**A/N: Patterson owns it...almost all of it. This however, is mine.**

**Big thanks to Someone2loveme, FANG STER1, Katie3llen, ARM1311, Silent-Memories123 and Ruby1792. **

**-twilightjunkie1313**

No Pov:

There was an annoyed hiss coming from a crate, accompanied by the near silent murmuring of a string of profanities.

It could have come from any of the six.

The pale red-head sat in his crate. He was the one who was muttering, cursing their situation. He hated this, just as they all did.

_who's out there? who's going to save us__  
__before we all fall through the cracks in the pavement_

The crate below held a mass of brown feathers. Abruptly the feathers shifted, revealing a winged girl. She was curled into a ball, pressed against the back of her crate. There was a puncture wound on her inner arm, just below her elbow. Some of the girl's blood was in a vile, heading off somewhere else. Somewhere that was possible less hellish than where she was.

_feel like it's teenage hunting season__  
__but nothing out there sounds half decent_

Curled up in their own crates two slept silently. I was a dreamless, unsettling sleep. Full of repressed nightmares that never surfaced but drifted half ignored. It wasn't sleep as much as an escape from the reality that haunted them. They were angels stuck in hell. Too young to face the nightmare that was constant experimentation, involuntary blood donation, mazes, steel tables, white coats...

_and if you don't know what im talking about__  
__it's probably better cause im working out__  
__don't wanna spend my lifetime figuring out__  
__that i coulda just said one prayer_

Not far away there was a boy, young yet reserved and dark. His wings were tucked tightly against his back, his eyes closed. He was silent, observant. He knew how bleak their situation was. Yet some part of him fought it. Inside his head he had sought refuge from everything. Of the six he was the most rebellious, the most closed in and closed off. The quietest. He was also the most violent, and self controlled.

_i'm never gonna fall in line__  
__so don't even bother wasting your time__  
__i'm a breed of a different kind__  
__stand back just to invade your mind_

Then the girl, curled up with her head resting on her knees. She too had tucked her wings in, making her look like a child. The picture was ironic, for none of them were children. They were able to take down grown men four times their size. Now they had to fight something worse, erasers. Lupine-human hybrids that belonged only in nightmares. The girl stretched out her arms, fingertips grazing the bars on her crate. She didn't want to fight. She never had, but some things they had no control over.

_situation__  
__a little speculation__  
__what are we facing__  
__too much complications__  
__looking for a name__  
__in a new generation__  
__a new focus__  
__new destination_

They needed to get out. To take to the air without a shock collar forcing them back down.

They would be free.

In the middle of the night the six held onto that hope. They had nothing else to live for, except each other.

_everyone is faceless__  
__give me__  
__something to believe in__  
__quick or else im leaving__  
__need a better reason__  
__i know__  
__things get complicated__  
__so miseducated__  
__it's a wonder that made it_

_It's a wonder that we made it _

_this far..._

**A/N: The two lines above do not belong to the original song. The song is called 'Something to believe in' by: FM Static. Sorry it's short, but i like it. **

**suggestions, grammar concerns, ideas? You know what to do-push the button and reveiw!**

**peace, chaos and a black feather**

**-twilightjunkie1313**


	4. sleep

**A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Patterson deserves the credit for them. The idea for this is mine, and the words are my own. **

**I dedicate this chapter to ruby1792, she is brilliant and eternally kind. **

**So without further delay i submit this chapter. Enjoy.**

**-twilightjunkie1313**

No Pov:

Six children lay asleep. It was at the same time a peaceful and disturbed sleep. Peaceful because for the first time in ages they had beds and sheets to lie upon. Disturbed because of where they were, and how they got there.

A small girl of about six slept soundly. She alone was at total peace with their situation. Curled up in her room, breath calm and even beneath pale purple sheets. Her only issue lie in her solitude. This was the first night in a long time she had been separated from her family, but it didn't affect her right now. She was too far gone in an empty dream to be worried about anything.

A boy, tall and pale as moonlight sept halfheartedly. He felt restless and uncertain, this was after all a new experience. They had never had to ask for outside help, they never had to trust a stranger. It was their one longstanding rule, and now it was broken. The pale boy tossed in his bed, blank cloudy eyes opening slightly. He hated this place. Not because of the safe haven he had found here, or the food he had been given. No, he hated this place for a reason he couldn't identify, a gut feeling he couldn't quite place. And because he couldn't explain it, couldn't tell the others why he felt ill-at-ease he had decided to simply not say anything. But as he slept, a fitful and restless sleep, the churning queasy feeling would rise up in him and he would feel the need to run away. On these occasions it was only his family that made him stay.

Another boy, much smaller than the first, sharing the haunting blue eyes of the girl was sleeping. He was sprawled out, his wings stretched over his back, his arms hanging past the edges of the narrow twin bed. His dreams were for the most part, blank. Occasionally, flashes of memory would burst in front of his eyes, bright and vivid.

Images of his sister, his real blood sister being scooped up into a sack and carried away.

A flash of eyes so dark and cold that the boy would wince in is sleep.

The soft melodic sound of someone laughing, accompanied by the image of light tan-streaked wings.

Sometimes his dreams were blank, other nights they were violent. Tonight however, his dreams were a cascade of memories that neither scared nor cheered him. These memories, playing across his eyelids just were.

The girl across the hall slept lightly. Her dark skin blended with the night, making her seem for the breifest of moments-nearly invisible. She blended into the sheets wrapped around her tightly. It was as if she tried to be a part of the room, blend with her surroundings however forgien they were. It was true that she and her family had not slept in a proper bed for years. They were not homeless, because that would mean they had once had a home to leave.

They never had a home, not a real place they could feel safe. She remembered they had once lived out in the empty spaces of colorado-in a house they shared with a traitor. But with that exception they had never slept in a bed, or walked into a building they could call home. They were born into a diffrent sort of exsistance. Theirs was to be a life lived on the run. Houses and dwellings meant little to her or her family. Maybe that is why sleeping in safety felt so strange.

In another room black wings rustled.

The boy stared out the window across the room. He blended with the shadows, his dark eyes fixed on the scene outside. The black sky blended with the dark blues of the ground, mixing into nothing. But the boy's eyes were not seeing the landscape, he was too absorbed in thought. His family has been here too long, all his instinct had screamed at him to leave, and yet something made him stay. This was for the first time in ages, a place safe enough to relax and settle into.

He had no intent of staying here for much longer. Thanksgiving was soon, and even though they had been here nearly a month he had wanted to stay until the holiday. He had wanted to spend a holiday, just one, safe and sound. He wanted to lay down and sleep in a real bed. It was a wish, he knew, that could get them all killed or recaptured.

He stared at the wall his eyes blank and deep in thought. He had decided that he would leave after thanksgiving, annie would not be happy about it, but it was for the best. Annie's opinion didn't matter much anyway, he had never been one to listen or depend on adults.

He had survived this long, through various diffrent horrors, by listening to his instinct, and to the one person he trusted above all others.

Just across the hall lay the only other soul awake in the house. Her brown eyes staring at the ceiling, her wings tucked tightly against her back. She was unable to sleep, regret and anxiousness pumping in her veins. Her blonde hair lay across the pillow, faint streaks of pink showing in the night. By day they streaks were bright and obnoxious. The girl couldn't sleep.

This felt wrong to her. A bed, sheets and daily meals were luxuries she hadn't yet grown used to, even after nearly a month of living in a house and going to school. It still felt strange, like it was a dream and she would wake up to find stone underneath her and the sound of rain falling on the leaves of trees. She would wake up and be back on the run.

But this was real, this house and these sheets and the walls. All of it was real, and all of it was wrong. So wrong. The girl closed her eyes, after thanksgiving they would leave, and the terrible dream would be over. Her family would be on the run, her destiny back under her own command.

For now she would ignore the odd twinges of unease. This place was not evil, annie was not bad. Most importantly her family seemed to like it here, they enjoyed sleeping in beds, safe. She could understand that, to some extent. Still, she would breath an enormous sigh of releif when she could fly off without having to come back for dinner, or be in bed by dark.

Then sleep pulled at her eyes, quieted her mind and carried her off into a dreamless black.

**A/N: A big thank you to all of those who waited for this chapter. I am so sorry for not posting sooner. I hope you enjoyed it as much as i do. And now for a small challenge. Cookies and kudos to those who get it. I will PM all those who guess and tell them the correct answer. (or give congrats to those who get it right)**

**What are the six words i should have said but haven't yet?**

**-twilightjunkie1313**

**(Hint: I haven't said them through this whole fic. But they are mentioned in each chapter.)**


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